


Alive, partially

by pizzatime



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: this is just a really short rough exploration of an idea inspired by In The Flesh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-03
Updated: 2018-05-03
Packaged: 2019-05-01 15:33:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14523705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pizzatime/pseuds/pizzatime
Summary: He can’t pinpoint the exact moment he awakened, but he knows he’s been unconscious, or something even deeper, for a long, long time.Spoilers for infinity war.





	Alive, partially

**Author's Note:**

> Please excuse this rushed, rough piece. Please feel free to take this idea and expand! Let me know if you do! 
> 
> This is loosely inspired by In The Flesh (an incredible BBC series where the undead are reintegrated into society and described as being 'partially deceased syndrome' sufferers) and I don't have the time to write a whole fic so if someone wants to expand on this tiny piece, please, please do!

He can’t pinpoint the exact moment he awakened, but he knows he’s been unconscious, or something even deeper, for a long, long time. He has no idea just how much time has passed, but impossibly, he’s intricately aware that it has.   
Awareness returned in painfully slow increments. Sound came first – a strange kind of other-worldly whooshing and whispering, of which he had no eyes to put a source to. He was also aware that he wasn’t alone – that wherever he was, there were others there, too. Floating around, like him, in a strange state of being and not being, somewhere between life and death.   
Next came colour, his nondescript world gaining saturation, and then detail, sharpening and sharpening, gaining more and more focus as he rematerialized back into the universe. He doesn’t know where he is, who he is, what he is but he knows he has been something before. He doesn’t feel cold, nor does he feel heat. In fact, he doesn’t really feel much of anything. He’s sure he’s not dead, but he doesn’t feel particularly alive, either. Just a consciousness in a vaguely familiar body.   
Over time, vague ideas and facts return and things begin to make some sense and others materialise around him, just as confused as he.  
He knows he is not on earth, but knows that is where he needs to be. He knows he is human, knows something terrible has happened, knows he has let someone down.   
Time passes and he’s collected, more time passes on the journey back to earth. It’s confusing and tiring and increasingly frightening as memories begin to stir.   
“What’s your name, kid?” One of his rescuers had asked.   
Peter; he’s pretty sure it’s Peter, but he’s still not sure how to verbalise.   
They make it to earth, the spaceship touching down to the Avengers’ headquarters tarmac, and the moment the hangar opens, he’s enveloped in the arms of a crying woman. May, his brain supplies. Aunt, it adds, helpfully, and then there’s the onslaught of love, mother, family, ben, home and things make sense and he still can’t feel it, but he’s hugging May back, new memories telling him how. May is crying, sobbing, and he feels each hitch in breath tug at his heartstrings, and he doesn’t cry, but he feels. He feels his final moments, the regret, the panic, the anguish, the guilt of leaving May behind, it’s all coming back, much faster now. She pulls away, holding him at arms-length, looking him up and down, and doesn’t quite mask the grimace at what she sees. He supposes he looks as strange as he feels.   
Over May’s shoulder, a dishevelled man stands watching from the periphery, hovering as though unsure of whether he belongs. New memories surface, Tony Stark, they supply. But this Tony Stark doesn’t match the memories – this Tony Stark is wearing a hoodie and shades and looks a lot older than Peter remembers.   
“Kid- holy shit, kid- I’m- holy shit-” May’s arms are replaced by Mr Stark’s and at first it seems unfamiliar, and he’s confused, but familiarity dawns and he remembers his last moments more clearly. I don’t want to go – crying, clinging on, holding on until he couldn’t hold on any longer, nothingness consuming him. And then darkness. So much darkness, for so, so long. He clutches at Tony now, pulling back slightly to reach for May, too, and they stand there together, a strange, almost-family reunion. 

Days pass and his memories become sharper, but they’re not much use when everything is different to how it was. Four years passed while Peter was gone. He finds out that there were others like him. Some returned, some didn’t. Michelle was one of the ones to return. Ned never left. They’re four years apart in age, now. The world seems to be largely a mess of rubble and ash but recovering, and each day, more people are rematerializing as the world rebuilds itself in Thanos’ wake, with mixed reception from survivors. They’re deemed alive, but only partly. Partially-deceased is the official term that is used for anyone returned, with non-beating hearts, ashen skin and milky eyes. It was an absolute shock the first time Peter caught his reflection, he’d hyperventilated and spent a solid few hours on the floor, terrified, horrified, by what he’d seen. May found him, held him, rocked him and he didn’t understand why because whatever had happened, wherever he’d been, he’d become something so wrong, so unnatural. But he’s here, he’s home, May is there, and that’s enough, for now.


End file.
